HOPE
The upper shelves in the Brookshigh VIP Library are accessible only by way of a narrow, timeworn staircase that leads to a gallery overlooking the reading desks below. I climb the creaking steps, the wood groaning under my foot, and reach the secluded upper level where rows of Supernatural book volumes sit in pristine chronological order.
I've decided to do my own research about my origin. I'm easily the only one who can help myself more. Siphon wolves are rare—maybe even extinct. None exist in Brookshigh, and Jeremy said he hasn't seen one himself. I've made him promise not to let the others know about my wolf.
No wonder Kaleb called me manipulative the other time. Does he fucking know I siphoned his gifts? But how the hell did that happen? There wasn't even a single moment I had the intention of being able to manipulate people.
I fucking hate that he does that.
